


It's Him

by Reborn_Rekall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Alastair (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester Remembers Hell, Dean Winchester is Tortured in Hell, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Minor Alastair/Dean Winchester, Past Alastair/Dean Winchester, Post-Hell Dean Winchester, Raped Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reborn_Rekall/pseuds/Reborn_Rekall
Summary: The last hunt brings back some of Dean’s worst memories…
Relationships: Alastair/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 16





	It's Him

I shouldn’t have drinked so much.

 _Ha_ , that’s an understatement. For the millionth time, I was an idiot to think it would make anything better, but a man’s gotta try somethin’ huh?

I regret turning all the lights off before bed, but I ~~didn’t~~ don’t wanna be like a goddamn child. I’m not a scared little kid. Dad taught me that a long time ago. I’m a hunter, I’m skilled, armed to the teeth, and ready.

…Aren’t I?

I’m sure I am.

And that’s enough, isn’t it? But why wasn’t it enough back then?

_No, stop!_ Stop thinking about that. Breathe.

Take a deep breath, do some of those wacky breathing exercises Sam always keeps rambling about. Breathe.

But fuck, I can’t breathe because I should’ve known better. I should have assessed the situation, stop being so stubborn. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep the moment I saw that shifter. I was reckless, not like that’s any surprising news. Sam was out getting food when I put the pieces together and figured out where the shifter was probably hiding. It was too close to the motel to not check out. And it was an easy gig, anyone can handle a shifter, right?

Fuck, why couldn’t I have waited for Sammy?

The moment I got inside that house everything went dark. I wasn’t ready, the shifter had the upper hand. I’m an experienced hunter, not some god damn rookie, I know how to take care of myself.

Except he was able to take me down so quickly. Am I as ready now as I was then?

It doesn’t matter, because once I opened my eyes, I knew all hell broke loose - It was Alastair.

It was him. Not his meatsuit, but the _real_ him. The way he looked like when we were in hell. And when I saw him that was all I could think about: It’s him.

I’ve never heard of a shapeshifter powerful enough to be able to turn into a person from your own memories. Maybe he was an offspring of the alpha shifter, but honestly I can’t bring myself to care about that right now. Because Alastair was _right_ there.

For a moment, I thought that I was back in hell, that maybe I never came out. But when the shifter started carving I knew it could never be _him_. I know Alastair’s torture from the depths of my soul cause that’s how far he reached. Every. Single. Time.

The shifter was quiet throughout the whole thing, just looking me dead in the eyes. And Alastair, well, he was a talker. He loved making me his bitch in every way possible. Everytime I couldn’t hold in the screams, he would praise me about how I was being his… _good little girl_ , only so he could dig whatever blade he had deeper into me. And the things he did to me afterwards…

Every time I woke up from the previous torture session, I was fully clothed. Alastair wanted the pleasure of ripping them off of me. He knew how that made me feel, how the expectation and the sudden exposure would made me _ashamed_. How I would feel like whatever came next was _my_ fault. And the way he laughed about it, during and after…

Maybe that’s why the shifter kept quiet, he knew my memories would do all the talking for me. Even though he was holding the blade, I was the one torturing myself the most.

Fuck, why am I even thinking about this?

Dad had it worse, he was in hell for 100 years. Sam had it worse, he was with Lucifer for godsake. I shouldn’t be victimizing myself. They had it worse, what I went through doesn’t even compare. It wasn’t even that bad, I should be over this, I should’ve stop feeling like this a long time ago. But everytime I stay up at night looking at this damn ceiling thinking about my past, I feel like I failed them.

Why do I have to fail every godforsaken thing I ever cared about? Why can’t I get better? Sammy is so put together, even after everything he can still find the reasons to take care of himself and somehow try to be happy. Why can’t I be as strong as Sam?

Fuck, I gotta breathe.

If Sam knew I was still this broken, he would flip. Try to play mr therapist and make me better. I should be better.

Why aren’t I better?

Wait- Is my face wet?

No. _No-no-no-no-no-no._

I’m not crying- I’m _not_ \- I’m better than this.

I’m over this I- Why am I even thinking about this? It doesn’t matter- It doesn-

I gotta breathe. I-I gotta

I gotta control myself, I need to stop

I need to stop thinking, that’s all. I need t- to stop crying, I’m bett- I’m better than that.

 _Alastair was lying, it wasn’t my fault_. It wasn’t.

But I sold my soul right?

NO, I did it for Sammy. It was all for Sammy. I didn’t deserve it. I-I couldn’t have right? I- _fuck_!

Breathe.

Fuck Dean, Breathe.

Breathe. _WHY CAN’T I FUCKING BREATHE?_

 _Fuck_ …

I need another drink.


End file.
